


Peppermint Schnapps

by Zoadgo



Series: Merry Ficmas! [9]
Category: The 100 (TV), Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 18:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5508380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoadgo/pseuds/Zoadgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing says home like cuddling and warming up with hot chocolate after a snowball fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peppermint Schnapps

“Motherfucker!” The word bursts from John Murphy’s mouth as something hits him square in the back of the head, causing a shimmering halo of crystals to cascade around him, and icy snow falls down the back of his coat.

Murphy spins around in a heartbeat, turning away from the front door of his house which had been his previous destination, a new goal forming of shoving whoever had thrown the snowball at him into a drift. His annoyance turns playful quickly when he spots a familiar tall form, bundled up in a ridiculous amount of coats and scarves, tossing another snowball lightly from hand to hand.

“You got lucky, 10k!” Murphy calls through the frozen air, “Element of surprise and all that shit.”

“I haven’t gotten lucky yet, that can wait for later,” 10k’s lopsided grin at his own joke is obvious in his tone, even if it’s hidden behind layers of wool, and Murphy rolls his eyes, “For now, try this on for size!”

The snowball leaves 10k’s hands with a deadly precision Murphy knows all too well, having once laid money against 10k in a shooting contest. Murphy dodges the projectile by dropping to the snow, and just like that, they’re at war. Murphy claims the car he’d just parked in their driveway as his fort, hurriedly packing snow into lopsided balls that will work well enough for his purposes, occasionally popping his head up to check on 10k’s position and dropping back down the moment before a snowball whizzes through the air where his head had just been.

“You really wanna do this?” Murphy calls out, trying to sound intimidating even though he’s smiling as he gathers his ammo supply where he needs it.

“What, you scared?” Comes the teasing response, and Murphy scoffs, removing his scarf and knotting it at the back of his neck, tucking it around one arm like a sling before loading snowballs into it.

“Just giving you a chance to avoid crushing defeat, greenbean,” Murphy taunts back, peeking around the car and spotting 10k.

He doesn’t give 10k a chance to respond, simply sprints from his cover and begins slinging snowballs as fast as he can at 10k, going for sheer volume of shots taken rather than accuracy. He hears a startled squeak as the first few collide with 10k, and then 10k starts moving and retaliating with frozen grenades of his own. From then on, Murphy scores far fewer hits, more focused on shaking snow out of his eyes, but he continues a steady stream of attacks until he runs out of ammo.

When he reaches for another snowball and finds nothing left in his ammunition sling, Murphy swears and dodges another shot from 10k, leaping out of the way and throwing his scarf off to the side. He faces 10k, panting and smiling, and 10k aims another shot at him.

“Truce?” 10k’s voice is muffled by his insulation, and Murphy shakes his head in response.

“Never.”

Murphy rushes at 10k with his response, feet slipping only slightly on the snow by some miracle. He braces himself for the impact of crystalline ice, and of course 10k’s shot connects flawlessly, hitting Murphy square in the face and causing him to gasp and swear in shock even though he’d been expecting it. He doesn’t stop, however, Murphy grits his teeth and shakes off the snow, continuing to run on his path straight toward 10k.

It’s then that 10k realizes what Murphy’s plan is, swearing and attempting to scramble out of the way. Murphy grins with triumph, though, knowing it’s too late for 10k to avoid him. He crashes into the heavily dressed boy with all of his momentum, feeling the impact softened greatly but 10k’s jackets. Murphy wraps his arms around 10k as they fall, landing squarely on top of him and smiling down at him.

Murphy reaches one of his hands up and tangles his fingers in 10k’s scarves, pulling them down to finally see 10k’s familiar smile. Murphy leans down and presses his lips to 10k’s in a quick, breathless kiss that’s cold and damp from melted snow. Despite that, it’s delightful as kissing 10k always is, Murphy sliding their lips together and 10k responding with a quiet moan, his hands going to Murphy’s back.

Murphy pulls away with a wicked smile, “Truce?”

“Not fair,” 10k pouts, and Murphy sits up, shifting his knees on either side of 10k with a shrug.

“You know I don’t fight fair.”

10k tries to sit up, but Murphy holds him down with a hand in the center of his chest, raising an eyebrow at him expectantly. 10k mock glares at him for a moment before sighing.

“Fine, truce.”

Murphy smiles at that and leans down to press another quick kiss to 10k’s lips before standing, offering his hand to 10k, who takes it even though he likely doesn’t actually need the help to get to his feet. 10k throws his arm around Murphy’s shoulders as they begin walking back to the house, and Murphy rolls his eyes in a display of grudging acceptance, bending to retrieve his scarf as they pass it. Despite his weak show of not appreciating the gesture, Murphy cuddles closer to 10k, feeling nothing but the fluff of his multiples layers of jackets.

“You’re a freaking marshmallow, you know that, right?” Murphy informs 10k.

“Hey, I get cold easily!” 10k protests, before he turns to Murphy with excitement bright in his eyes, “Do we have marshmallows?”

“Probably, yeah.” Murphy hums thoughtfully, “I don’t think they go bad, we should have a bag somewhere from camping.” 

“We should have hot chocolate,” 10k actually licks his lips at the thought as he proposes it, and Murphy huffs a small laugh at his boyfriend’s ridiculousness.

“Spike it with peppermint schnapps and I’m in.”

10k removes his arm from Murphy’s shoulders when they reach the front door and Murphy has to scrounge for keys, immediately missing the weight of the embrace. He opens the door quickly, the burst of warmth welcome in contrast to the damp chill permeating his clothes due to 10k’s annoying accuracy. 

“Of course, wouldn’t have it any other way,” 10k agrees with Murphy’s proposed compromise and begins the long process of removing all his layers of clothing.

Murphy, on the other hand, simply has to hang up his scarf, gloves, and jacket, and throw his boots by the door. He watches 10k struggle with one of his many zippers for a moment, thoroughly amused, before the clamminess of his jeans gets to be too much, and Murphy retreats to their bedroom to change out of his soaked clothes.

It’s a bit more of a struggle to remove wet, tight-cut jeans, but Murphy still manages to struggle out of all his clothes and shrug into a sinfully fluffy robe before 10k’s even got all his outer clothes off. Murphy takes it upon himself to set the water to boil in the kettle before sitting on their ratty old couch, cold but warming quickly.

“You’ve got to make the hot chocolates, Tommy,” Murphy calls out using the name 10k’s dad had given him, something more private than the name his hippie of a mother had put on his birth certificate. He hears a muffled agreement and smiles, turning on the TV to find something to watch so that he doesn’t have to move for the next while. This is thoroughly comfortable, and being waited on by 10k is one of Murphy’s favourite ways to pass the time.

After a time, Murphy hears 10k shuffle into the kitchen where the water’s bubbling away happily in the moments before the kettle clicks off. 10k rummaging through cupboards and the clinking of ceramic mugs is comforting to Murphy, and he enjoys how right this feels. Snowball fights, hot drinks, fluffy robes, and a house filled with Christmas decorations all put up by 10k. It’s not something Murphy had ever even dreamed he could have, it’s more than he thought he deserved for a long time.

Murphy’s mood almost shifts from contented to melancholy as he thinks of the past, but then 10k walks over to him with padded footsteps, his ridiculous bunny slippers that Murphy had bought him last year scuffing over the carpet. 10k sets the mugs on their coffee table and sits on the couch, immediately leaning against Murphy and cuddling up to him. Murphy slings his arm around 10k, wanting him as close as possible in that moment that seems all too good to be true.

“What are we watching?” 10k shifts slightly to settle better against Murphy’s side as commercials flip past.

“American Psycho.”

“Seriously, at Christmas?” 10k looks up at Murphy accusatory, and Murphy simply smiles back at him.

“Trust me, we won’t be watching most of it. Remember that thing you said earlier about getting lucky? Well, I think I know of a way for us to warm up.” Murphy brings his hand which had been laying on 10k’s arm up to trace it over 10k’s neck, sliding it down to his shoulder and pushing 10k’s robe back just a tiny amount.

“Oh really?” 10k prompts, and Murphy doesn’t respond with words.

They end up having to microwave their hot chocolates, spiked with peppermint schnapps, which had grown quite cold while forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, everyone! Welcome to the third day of Ficmas! 
> 
> To make up for the last two days of angst, have some fluff. This is based off of “super competitive snowball fights” and “warming each other up” prompts I’ve gotten from anons!
> 
> Forever giving all the love to my editor [Etra](http://coldsaturn.tumblr.com), she’s the most amazing person!
> 
> Come spend the holidays with me [on tumblr!](http://jonnmurphy.tumblr.com) And thank in advance for reading/commenting/leaving kudos <3


End file.
